The Chair
by catdemonakatsukigirl
Summary: Scotland had this nice chair in his room, a real comfortable chair where you would just sink into it when you sit in it. He really liked it, unfortunately so did someone at someone else was England. I have this chair and I'm Scottish. JoKer at end! THIS IS DONE! PLEASE DO NOT HIT THE FOLLOW BUTTON, HIT THE FAVORITE BUTTON! I AM SICK OF GETTING FOLLOWER MESSAGES ON THIS!


**A/N: Just a cute little thing I did a while ago. I have this really nice comfy chair…and I'm Scottish so yeah…ENJOY!**

Scotland had this nice chair in his room, a real comfortable chair where you would just sink into it when you sit in it. He really liked it, unfortunately so did someone else. That someone else was England.

Scotland sighed. He held his baby brother and rubbed the back of the babe to try to stop it from crying. He slowly sat down into the new chair that his king had given him. The child was getting on his nerves. He wondered what it was that made the child cry like this. It might have been that stupid France acting up again. Nothing seemed right after Rome just suddenly disappeared, well nothing right for everyone else that wasn't him or his brothers. They were happy most of the times, but there were times where they missed the benefits. This was one of those times. Scotland was getting sick of rubbing the babe's back. He stood up and placed him in the chair. He was only going to get him some milk and it wasn't like the babe was going anywhere. Scotland walked out of the room and had to stop after shutting the door. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. England was the future. England was going to be strong. England was going to cling to him forever! Scotland already knew it. He walked into the kitchen or from the way Wales was looking at him, he must have stagger in there. Ireland yanked Wales out of the kitchen and Scotland was alone. He felt himself shake and it scarred him. He hadn't thought of a safe way to raise England. His other brothers were already in their teens so he didn't have to worry as much, but England was a baby! Scotland grabbed the milk bucket and poor it into a bottle for England to drink from. He lugged himself back to his room and opened his door. What he saw was not what he expected. In the chair that he left England in, was England but not in the same state he was in when Scotland had left him. Scotland had left a loud crying tiny babe in that chair. What was there was a sleeping one instead. England's face had tear streaks and his mouth was slightly opened. He was breathing in soft slow deep breathes. The babe was truly in a deep sleep. Scotland was speechless. He knew that he should move the child but then that would have a risk of setting off another round of waterworks. He snatched up his blue cloak and laid it over the babe. He gently tucked in the sides under England and then lay down on his bed. He was going to beat up France some day or someday England was going to win and be the ruler, ruler of the world.

Scotland figured out that England liked his chair best after something happened. He knew this because after a fight that England was in; England was sitting in that chair and was either smiling or crying. Either way, England was cover in small scrapes and cuts. Scotland didn't really like it.

Scotland walked into his room hoping for a night of sleep, instead he found England sleeping in that chair or pretending to be. England was at least a teenager now, but he was smaller than normal teen nations and was still able to curl up comfortably in the chair.

Scotland shook his head, "What's wrong brat?"

"What makes you think there's something wrong?"

Scotland narrowed his eyes at the roughness in England's voice. It reminded him that his baby brother had been in a battle earlier that day. Scotland could imagine England screaming at the top of his lungs at soldiers over the blast of cannonballs. His arms were covered in pretty bad bandages, not bloody bandages but badly done.

"Did you do your bandages yourself?"

"No, Ireland did them. You weren't here when I got home from the battle," England still wouldn't look at him.

"Well from your tone it sounds like you lost. What's the score now?"

"I don't know. I don't want to fight anymore. I want to go and explore."

Scotland didn't like that. If England went exploring, that meant he couldn't keep an eye on him, "Why would you want to do that?"

"To find gold. I heard Spain was having a fun time making colonies. I want to try it out and that is why I am here. I want your permission."

Scotland felt honored but then remembered the thought he had so long ago, England was going to be the ruler of the world. It scared Scotland but at the same time he wanted England to go out and find land that he could control and govern.

"Alright."

Scotland learned that England trusted him with his biggest secrets, secrets that came out whenever he was in that chair.

Scotland was in a good mood when he came into the house. His mood slowly dampened as he trudged up to his room. He remembered he had all of England's work to do since the nation was in a war and across a bloody ocean. Scotland hated that America had rebelled against England; he was truly one of the best things in the older nation's life. Scotland's mood worsened when he came to his door. He really didn't want to open it. He was scared of what might be in there. Be it paperwork or England; it was going to be bad! He swallowed whatever fear he had and turned his door knob. There was England in his nice military uniform, red jacket with white cross belts and white breeches and calf high boots. He was sitting in the chair curled up uncomfortably this time. Scotland walked passed him by walking behind the chair, trying to sneak peeks at his baby brother's face. He had no luck.

"Alright, what happened?" Scotland finally asked.

England was silent for a moment before he sobbed out a 'He won!' England would not look at Scotland. He just buried his face deeper into his legs.

"Hey don't do that to your pants! So what he won, you still have what's-their-faces! You have plenty of colonies and natural resources! So what America-"

England let out a wail at the sound of the ex-colony's name. Scotland stood there watching him cry for a good five minutes before England quiet down again.

"Better?"

"NO! I will never be better! Scotland I love him so much! He didn't care that I love him. He didn't think that I would ever think of him more than a little brother! He didn't think that what I was doing was for his own good! What is going to happen to him now? He is not European; he is nowhere near us! I can't drop in and have nice little fight because I am lonely like how I have done with France. Scotland I love him! Why could he not see that?"

Scotland coughed, his face was red and he looked away from England, "I didn't know you _loved_ him _like_ that."

"I still do!"

"Right…I don't know why he didn't see your love," Scotland wanted to reach out to his brother but he felt really awkward at the moment (or smack him, but that was too harsh), "There is a saying about love, Arthur."

"There is?" England looked up, "What is it Agnes?"

"If you really love some, set it free. If it comes back it's yours, if not it wasn't meant to be. Just wait for him Arthur, just wait."

England was silent for a moment, "Alright. I will wait for him. I will wait for Alfred!"

"Alright, glad that you came to a decision," Scotland gave another cough, "Now get out of my room!"

Scotland learned that England would do anything to sit in the chair and talk to him.

Scotland was happy the war was over. No more air raids! What was not happy about it was that England was really badly hurt and it was America's fault. Scotland did tell England that if America came back then that meant he loved England. He did not. England had gotten his hopes up for nothing. England had gotten hurt for nothing in return; there was no love for England with America. Scotland had put England in his room for rest. He had sent out Ireland to the market to see what could be bought and he had sent out Wales to the Prime Minster. He stayed home. He had to, there was just too much work to be done and with England not well, it was all on him to run The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. He hated it. He wanted to rest and that was what he was planning on doing in his room. He froze in his door way when he saw the body sitting in 'The Chair'. It was broken and covered in so many bandages that it looked like it came from Egypt. The head was covered in shaggy blonde hair. That snapped Scotland out of his trance.

"What the bloody hell are you doing!" Scotland marched over to the chair, "Do you want to bloody die?"

"No," The voice was so rough like it had been used in years, which was true expect on rare occasions, "He loves me."

"Arthur Kirkland, what the bloody hell are you talking about? Who loves you?"

"America," Scotland would have slapped him if he wasn't in such a bad condition, "Alfred Freedom Jones loves me."

"And why do you say that? Last time I checked the Great United States of America was tearing into your torso for your power, before I shot at him that is," Scotland had his hands on his hips and was bending over, hovering over England just centimeters away from him, "He destroyed you!"

England looked into Scotland's eyes. They were so dull and there were dark circles under them. His face was pasty compared to what it was years ago during the war. England reached up with one of his bandaged hands and poked Scotland on the nose. England smiled the first time in almost a century.

"He loves me, just wait and see Agnes. He's going to come back to me on his own. Just like you said so long ago."

Scotland was in shock, no, shock didn't even begin to cover it. There was no word to describe the feeling he was feeling at the moment.

"Alright, I will wait and see if you are right."

Scotland just realized that he should have never let England near that chair, no matter how comfortable and at ease the blond felt in it. He should have realized what was going to happen next.

"I love this chair!" England was once again in 'The Chair', his legs were hanging on one side and he was smiling. He was completely relaxed.

"Yeah, so? Why are you here?" Scotland was in no mood to beat around the bush today.

"Why do you think I want something?"

"You always want something! That is how nations work! Nothing can satisfy us, now what do you want?" Scotland growled.

"This chair for starters and then for you to move it into my room-WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?" England screamed as Scotland lifted him up by the back of his collar, "RAPE! INCEST! AMERICA HELP!"

Scotland froze as he heard and felt his floor shake. The door was almost ripped off its hinges and England was dropped.

"Thank God for your hearing Alfred!" England got up and rushed over to America who was standing at the door. His knuckles were turning white from clutching the door knob. Scotland glared and then smiled.

"Careful, that door knob is older than England. Wouldn't want your head on a pike for something stupid," He looked at England, "I am not giving my chair up, that means 'NO' England and you can't use America to get it!"

"I understand Scotland; also can I have the car keys?" Scotland gave a puzzling look, "You banned me from the car a few months ago when me and Ireland were drunk and got into a wreck."

"Oh right. Yes I guess it's alright," Scotland walked to his dresser where the keys where, "Where are you going?"

"Out. Does it matter? I won't touch a single drop of anything but water!"

Scotland looked at his little brother and laughed silently to himself. England had a pouting face and was gripping America's arm in a way were Scotland could tell that there was love, "I don't have to worry about that with you, England. America if you bring him home drunk or don't come back at all. Your head and a pike and our front yard. Got it?"

America nod, "Yes sir!"

Scotland tossed the keys at them, "Alright get out here! I need to smoke a fag and have fun," The two blondes walked out, "Be safe!"

"We will," England called back. Scotland sighed and sat down in his chair. It was a nice chair, a real comfortable chair where you would just sink into it when you sit in it. He really liked it, fortunately so did someone else. That someone else was England. Scotland loved every moment England sat in it, for better or for worse.


End file.
